Her latest track is called “No Eyes No Hands,” a dark, cold cut of tripped-out minimalism and paranoid beats by Argentinan brothers Matias and Fernando Alonso as NANOBRAIN. The dragging production suits Coco Carbomb well, with the added space allowing her disconnected, lethargic speak-sing delivery to stretch out in a sort of subdued terror that’s not far away from the bizarre fetishim of 18+. It’s great. Check it out:

SUMMER BLUNTED

You wait for your mom’s minivan to pull up in the parking lot. Your chapped lips and sunburned eyes match your crimson toasted nose and cheeks. Your hair solidified in sand-crusted curls: A long day at the beach. You think you’re really getting good at boogie boarding. You can’t wait to tell your mom about the huge wave you caught, but you know she will be pissed when she sees your sunburn. The joys and pains of SUMMER: sandy bedsheets and freezing cold aloe vera.

The other day, I saw a group of kids who were clearly part of a summer camp and had just visited the beach. They seemed completely drained of all energy as they walked back to the van; dazed with pink cheeks, they were jaded by summertime freedom. I realized then that in childhood, summertime is magic. In adulthood, after we’ve graduated and drudged into the real world, summer is just another season — often one that can be miserably hot and humid. This mix is to remind us of the magic of summer, and that even as adults we can revel in the heat of the season.

Another good thing about being adults is that we can responsibly consume moderate amounts of slightly illegal substances and listen to abstract, convoluted, screwed-up hip-hop and not get in trouble for it — BLUNTED. That’s also what this mix is about. I’ve selected a handful of my favorite super-fresh beats, entwined with sunny guitars, tribal drums, and creepy cinematic orchestrations to create a steamy soundtrack to these hazy, sweaty August days.

“Repetitions (For the Depressed)” [stream + mix]

Forgotten Light is Leonce Nelson, who is part of Datavision Ltd., is La Mer, is Gotherm, and is co-owner (with Will Burnett of INTERNET CLUB/Datavis) of the new, intriguing, super-limited-run cassette label, Hexagon (phew!). Forgotten Light has a beautiful new track from a new cassette titled Window, made available for the first time here on the Chocolate Grinder. We’re proud to present the soothingly smooth “Repetitions (For the Depressed),” which is not at all as somber as you might expect. In fact, drone like this feels like it’s painted in bright, vibrant colors, evoking imagery of sunrises or partly-cloudy, carefree sorts of days. Maybe the point is for these “repetitions” (found in the seemingly infinite wave of textured chord softly lapping over itself as the track cycles its way past your eardrums) to cheer your miserable, staring-at-your-work-computer ass up a little bit. And I tell you what — it’s working from my perspective. Listen to the track here:

“Repetitions (For the Depressed)” is also included on a custom mix that Nelson made for the Music For Programming series. The mix features the gentle sounds of some of ambient’s elite, all softly effected and blended into this elongated smear of nerve-calming gorgeousness, with only a single breath taken towards the last quarter. A track from Gas’ masterpiece Pop makes an early appearance, followed by works from Burial, Oneohtrix Point Never, and How to Dress Well. And then, of course, there are several of Nelson’s own pieces (across several of his guises, of which I have a feeling there may be more out there I’ve yet to find) in addition to “Repetitions (For the Depressed).”

With the announcement of that stupid-amazing and stupid-expensive looking 9xLP Basinski box set lighting up my Twitter feed last week (I saw another one that boasts 16… not sure about that…), I think it’s safe to say we’re all ready and able to sit around and let our jaws gape to some drone for an hour. I mean, just an hour? That’s nothing. Shit, it’s Friday, you’re there (er… here), so just relax, click play, and get some shit done while letting your brain calmly melt down into your neck. Like you were using it anyway. This mix is sure to wilt whatever data entry or e-filing you might have going on at the office into a numbing blob of time passed. Check it out here.

“Ollottrilotlillittaialiattat”

As an earlier part of the development of modern minimal noise recordings and pioneer for artists with digital-age monikers (e.g., Macintosh Plus, Mediafired, INTERNET CLUB, USRNM, LMFAO, etc.), we owe a lot to irr. app. (ext.). Having produced a slew of soft and sinister sounds for over a decade, irr. app. (ext.), known as Matthew Waldron to his mother, has released a new track on his SoundCloud. The track is called “Ollottrilotlillittaialiattat” (have fun with that) and is described as being a “cross-section of 10 years of accumulated textures” by the artist. He also mentions that he’s added “abstract free-zz so the youth market has something to dance to.” Those LMFAO kids don’t know shit — irr. app. (ext.) is true party rock.

“☾ ℳOONLIT ℬAY ☾”

For all I know, ☯ARPEGGI8☯ isn’t a moniker at all. Which is to say, I know very little about about the artist, except that s/he (or it) seems to identify with the seapunk microgenre. But while most of the songs at the artist’s SoundCloud are labeled as such, one of them is curiously labeled “memory.” Unlike another ☯ARPEGGI8☯ track, “♒ BEAUTIFUL ♒ BRINY ♒ SEA ♒” — which begins with a sample of “The Beautiful Briny Sea,” left-turns into a fragmented beatscape, and then finally lines up again with the sample in a rather uncomfortable hybridization — “☾ ℳOONLIT ℬAY ☾” starts with a non-sampled section of tinkling bells and robotic accompaniment, then slowly fades out after the breezy introduction of a sample that seems so culturally embedded it feels like we’ve only just recently experienced it. And, as it turns out, we have, in a beautifully decayed form beyond this world.

I’ll Sleep Until I See The Moon [album stream]

Russian minimalist Sergei Dmitriev is used to playing Sandman and putting our asses to bed. Previously known as Bedroom Bear, Dmitriev layered gentle loops upon gentle loops, creating music that could serve as a splendid soundtrack to anyone’s sleepytime. Recording now under the slightly less cuddly moniker Black Sky Chants, Dmitriev sculpts just as dreamy sounds, veering just barely towards haunting visions and distant nightmares.

Representing the second cassette release from Belgian experimental label Aguirre Records, I’ll Sleep Until I See The Moon is a dream. From the Close Encounters of the Third Kind-esque spacey call-and-response melody on lead-off track “67 km of Capricorn” to the tangled guitar echoes of “Strobe Glide,” you’ll leave this record feeling like you just woke from a wondrous dream but can’t remember shit. Luckily you can just listen to it again.